


i’ve got a hunger (twisting my stomach into knots)

by GlitteryCake



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, Episode Tag, F/M, Pre-Episode Speculation for S02E13: Xin, Spoilers for and up to S02E12: Aftermath, The Author Is Certain Nothing in Here Will Happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17539787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitteryCake/pseuds/GlitteryCake
Summary: Lea has a date with... someone. And Death Cab for Cutie.Meanwhile, Shaun possibly has a date with... a bottle of beer?How are these two things related?I recommend reading my earlier work, “this must be the place (naive melody)”, as there are a fair few callbacks to this story in this new one.





	1. ... that my tongue has tied off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like all good things, Lea’s date with Jake must come to an end. And how.
> 
> I also really wanted to know what gave Shaun the idea to try drinking again. I kind of think it was along the same lines of the karaoke session redux earlier this season. So that’s what I wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of writing, I have not seen “Aftermath” yet (it hasn’t aired here), but I have seen enough clips and read enough recaps to feel pretty okay about this story. It may change slightly once I see the episode in a fortnight, if I notice other little things I want to comment or expand on. That being said, a great deal of what’s in here also came from the show in general up to this point. So the main story likely won’t change.

“Bop-bah, bop-bah, this is the sound of settling...” Lea sang quietly under her breath, sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s car.

She felt pretty exhilarated: the evening had gone well, the date had been pleasant, and Death Cab had put on an amazing live show.

Jake smiled, turning his eyes away from the road briefly to look at her.

“What?” Lea asked, suddenly shy. It had been a while since anyone had looked at her that way. Not since — Well. Anyway.

‘Since’ was at home, tucked up in bed.

 _Please be asleep_ , Lea hoped, _because this guy is_ cute, and that was _not_ a guilt trip she wanted to go on right now.

Evidently, Glassy’s earlier lecture about her inevitably hurting Shaun again still stung a little.

“You look so adorable singing to yourself,” Jake answered, turning his eyes back to the road.

“I couldn’t help seeing you get into it at the concert tonight, like no-one was watching. You were swaying to _Transatlanticism_  and bobbing your head to _A Lack of Colour_. It was really cool to see. I hate going to gigs with people who aren’t as into the band as I am. You feel like — ”

“ — Like, you can’t really feel the music or dance or just plain let loose, like, you keep looking over at your friend to see if they’re rocking out, and they just — ” Lea added, nodding.

“ — Just don’t seem to be having a good time, and it harshes your buzz. You feel like apologising to them because they’re having a boring time, and you dragged ‘em there,” Jake agreed. “I feel like your roommate gives off that kind of vibe, to be honest with you.”

 _Um. What?_ Lea said to herself, her brain suddenly snapping to attention.  _Who asked you?_  

“Shaun isn’t boring,” Lea said irritably.

Jake laughed. 

“Oh, that’s not what I meant at all. What I meant was, he just seems like a quiet sort of guy. You guys haven’t gone to any gigs together, have you? He really doesn’t seem like the type.”

Lea felt her arms cross defensively over her chest.

Jake seemed to sense her rapid change in mood, quickly drew in another breath, and continued talking. 

“He just seems — ” Jake trailed off, obviously thinking better of whatever he was going to come out with next.

“Shaun is autistic,” Lea said, her voice turning brisk and not a little chilly, “So, however he _seems_ — ”

“Hey, hey, I get it, Jake said, his hands raising from the steering wheel in a ‘steady on’ gesture. “My cousin has a son who’s retarded... it’s sure nice of you to live with him, you know, normalise him a bit — ”

 _Did he just say what I think he said?_ Lea asked herself, anger rising in her stomach. _Did I_ _actually hear this jerk call my Shaun a ‘retard’? And ‘normalise’ him? The frick does that even mean?_

A vicious red light started to dance in Lea’s field of vision, growing larger and larger.

Fury.

“Stop this car,” Lea snarled. “Right now.” 

Jake laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Lea hissed, “Because I’m not. Stop this car _now_.”

Jake laughed again, the self-assured sound suddenly dripping arrogance and condescension to Lea, where earlier it had projected an attractive confidence.

“You know, you’re pretty sensitive about someone who’s just your roommate. Anything I... should, uh... know about?” he pressed.

“Oh, nothing your ignorant ass is gonna know about in a hurry, that’s for sure. Do I have to frickin’ roll out of this damn junk bucket? Stop the Goddamn _car_ , Jake!” Lea hurled at him.

“We’re still pretty far from your building, not exactly walking distance – forget it, forget I said anything.” Jake protested, now adopting a contrite expression. “Hey, what’s your address again? I’ll just drop you off, I swear that’s it. Obviously you don’t want to go out with me again, but at least let me drive you home.”

“It’s 404 In-Your-Dreams Street in Let-Me-the-Hell-Out-NOW, in the state of Screw-You, USA,” Lea nearly screeched.

“Okay, if you insist. Jeez, are you in love with that reta – _guy_ , or something? You are... strangely defensive about him.”

“Or something. Or maybe I just don’t like backward-thinking people ragging on my best friend, especially when they literally met him for the very first time, for about thirty seconds, just tonight, and yet somehow managed to form a hilariously inaccurate, narrow-minded opinion about him in that extremely brief amount of time.” Lea agreed, her voice dripping sarcasm.

The car ground to a halt, the brakes squeaking.

“Which is a real shame, because this was a nice evening,” she continued. “Up until now, that is. So, thanks for up until now, Jake, and go screw yourself.”

Jake held up a hand to interrupt Lea’s tirade, but she went right on.

“And, for your information, Shaun is a _surgical_ _resident_ , and a billion times smarter than you could ever hope to be – not that his intellect is any of your damn business,” she finished, snatching up her purse and barrelling out of the car, mustering every ounce of willpower she could not to slam the car door as hard as she could.

“Uh, I think he’s a bit more than a best friend. Maybe you should tell him tha — ”

The last of Jake’s words were drowned out when Lea shut the car door, but she got the gist.

She stalked over to the bus stop outside St. Bonaventure Hospital, which was thankfully nearby, and sat down, pulling her cell from her purse.

She hit Shaun’s speed dial with a shaking finger. It rang once and Shaun picked up.

“Hello, Lea,” he said, his voice sounding... odd. Not like she’d woken him, but more like he was...

Drunk. _He_ _sounds a little bit drunk_ , Lea thought to herself.

She’d never thought she’d live to see - or hear, for that matter - Shaun drunk again. He had sworn off booze the next morning the last time. _Everybody does at one time or another,_  Lea thought. _But with Shaun, you kind of believe it._

“Lea?” Shaun repeated, “What is it?”

“Oh, Shaun, I – never mind, I’ll just Uber it, I – are you... _drunk_?”

“I am,” Shaun said, his voice pleasant, if a little slurred, as though he was simply agreeing that the sky was indeed blue.

“Then you can’t... it’s okay. Shaun, I...”

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Lea?” Shaun asked. 

It was bizarre how quickly his voice changed at that question, like he’d just consumed about five cups of coffee. His tone was immediately alert and full of concern.

 _I don’t deserve you_ , Lea thought miserably.

“I - yeah,” she replied.

“Tell me where you are,” Shaun prodded her.

“I’m at your work. At the bus stop.”

“Get inside, it’s not safe there at this time of night. I’ll be there soon.”

“Shaun! You’re not going to drive!” Lea shouted down the phone.

“There is no need to shout, I can hear you quite well. Of course I’m not going to drive. That would be very irresponsible. I’ll be there. Wait in the cafeteria.”

“Wait, Shaun, I — ” Lea tried to protest, but the line went dead.


	2. ... my brain’s repeating, “if you’ve got an impulse, let it out”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I learned from my last one-shot. It was too long to be a one-shot. So with this one, we now have chapters.
> 
> I think I’m one of very few people who enjoys Lea’s character (well, from my observations of the fandom). I like writing her because she is very flawed, and if you’ve read my earlier story, you know I’m not tremendously forgiving of her shortcomings when I write her.

Shaun had ordered an Uber, since the buses had stopped running for the night, but as the driver tried to make conversation with Shaun, and gradually realised his passenger was kind of sloshed... and _different_ besides, he became belligerent and steadfastly refused to drive Shaun any farther.

“I don’t take drunk retards, get out.”

“But I pre-paid for the whole trip,” Shaun protested. He heard, and chose to ignore, the other insult.

“I don’t care. Uber can credit you. Get out.”

Unable to reason with the angry Uber driver, Shaun got out. From where he was, he knew St. Bonaventure wasn’t too far of a walk.

There was that, at least.

As he came through the front doors to the foyer, he nodded to the night janitor, who greeted him in Spanish-accented English, “ _Buena_ _noches_ , Dr. Murphy. You have been called back to work? So late?”

“ _Buena_ _noches_ , Carmen. No, I came back for someone.”

“Ah. The girl. I saw her come in not long ago. She is in the cafeteria. She looks very sad, Dr. Murphy. Very angry, too — ”

“Thank you,” Shaun broke in, looking past the curious janitor into the cafeteria, walking inside it to where Lea sat at a table, staring into space.

Shaun pulled out another chair, cringing at the unholy _squeeeeeeeeak_ it made as it dragged on the linoleum floor.

“You are very upset,” Shaun observed as he sat down, fidgeting with his hands, weighing up whether to pat Lea on the shoulder or put his arm around her.

Lea nodded, wiping at her nose with her sleeve. Shaun wondered if she had been crying before he’d gotten there.

“Yeah, I’m upset, Shaunie,” Lea replied, her voice watery, “I am really, really upset.”

“Did someone – hurt you?” Shaun asked her hesitantly. “That man that was in our apartment earlier? Perhaps he had too much to drink — ”

“Oh, he wasn’t drunk, Shaun, he was just an idiot.”

“Well, he didn’t _look_ unintelligent, although I question the intellect of someone who chooses to listen to a band that calls itself ‘Death Cab for Cutie’. What an absurd name. I texted Claire tonight to ask if she knows their music, and she replied ‘Ugh, them. It’s just one guitar and a whole lot of complaining’.”

“Oh, Claire said that, did she?” Lea replied, a half-hearted chuckle escaping her body. “Well then, I must be stupid too, because I actually _like_ Death Cab.”

“You are smart in other ways,” Shaun reassured her.

Despite herself, Lea smiled. “High praise from Dr. Murphy, indeed,” she agreed.

“And you wouldn’t date anyone who was stupid,” Shaun added, almost as an afterthought.

Lea laughed out loud then, clear and bright. “Oh, Shaunie, you have _no_ idea how many stupid men I’ve dated in my life. No idea.”

“How did you find out that this particular man was stupid? And why did you not know this before you went out with him?”

Trying not to be offended by Shaun’s innocent, but nonetheless insensitive questions, Lea managed to offer a defence: “He didn’t _seem_ dumb when I met him.”

Shaun nodded. “What did he say to change your mind?”

At that, Lea clammed up. How could she explain what had happened without hurting Shaun?

“Lea?” Shaun prompted her, his voice gentle – as gentle as he could make it, Lea realised.

“Glassy says I’m gonna hurt you again anyway, so...” Lea mumbled to herself, looking away from Shaun.

“Dr. Glassman says you are going to hurt me again?” Shaun repeated, confused.

Lea nodded, resigned. “Uh-huh.”

“What could this man have said to you that could somehow hurt _me_? I met him so briefly. That does not make sense,” Shaun questioned, his expression baffled.

“You’re gonna make me tell you, aren’t you,”Lea said. It wasn’t a question.

Shaun looked offended. “You know I will not make you tell me things that you do not want to tell me. But I will listen, if you want to tell me.”

“You would not believe how much I don’t want to tell you what that jerk said,” Lea fumed, her eyes sparking.

“But you will feel better if you tell me the truth,” Shaun pronounced decisively.

“And you’ll feel awful,” Lea countered.

“I am autistic. Did that man notice?” Shaun offered.

Lea’s head jerked in recognition, and she nodded.

Shaun didn’t look surprised one bit.

“Did he call me ‘strange’?” Shaun pressed.

Lea shook her head. “Nope. Worse. He called you ‘retarded’. Twice. And I’m sorry he even had a second opportunity to say it, but tucking and rolling out of a moving car is frowned upon. He parked. Eventually.”

“Well, some autistic people  _are_ intellectually impaired,” Shaun said, in a matter-of-fact way.

“But not you!” Lea bit out. “You’re – ” _So much more than that_ , her brain supplied.

“Not impaired?” Shaun supplied, a half-smile on his face. A rhetorical, ‘what-are-you-going-to-do?’ kind of smile.

Lea realised right then just how far this guy must have come to get to a place where he was self-possessed enough to offer that kind of knowing smile, a half-smile about something that impacted every facet of his existence.

It hurt Lea’s heart.

“You’re not freaking retarded, Shaun,” Lea snapped. “I didn’t like it that he felt like he was entitled to reduce you, and everything you’ve achieved, down to that word. So I got really pissed off at him, made him stop the car, and let me out on the sidewalk right then and there. I knew from the scenery around that your work was nearby, and now that you can drive, I thought you might be able to come get me.”

“Except I was too drunk to drive,” Shaun said, nodding with a wry smile, “And, apparently, too drunk and retarded to catch an Uber.”

Lea sat bolt upright. “Your Uber driver refused to drive you here because you were _drunk_? What the hell? Uber was literally designed for drunk people who aren’t legally supposed to drive!”

“Drunk _and_ retarded,” Shaun reminded her, helpfully.

“How do you say that out loud?” Lea asked him, pained.

“Say what? ‘Retarded’?” Shaun queried.

“Don’t you feel so... _small_... when someone says you are?” Lea asked, disbelievingly.

Shaun looked down. “I used to,” he said, haltingly.

“And now?” Lea pressed.

“And now I – I’ve heard ‘Shaun’s retarded’ enough times - to my face, behind my back, in report cards, everywhere - for it not to matter much to me anymore.”

“That’s not really better, is it?” Lea muttered, her voice angry, “That’s just acceptance of people’s B.S.. And even if you’ve accepted that, I’m not going to. You deserve so much more than that.”

Shaun looked up and stared Lea right in the eye, and said simply, “You give me so much more than that.”

Lea felt her insides start to melt.

 _Okay_ , Lea said to herself, taking a deep breath and straightening up in her seat. _You remember how well he took it last time you kissed him, when you came back, so... let’s not do that again, maybe?_

“You’re thinking,” Shaun said.

“Yeah, you know me well,” Lea agreed.

“Did you have fun on your date otherwise?” Shaun asked.

Lea looked at him again, surprised at the question.

“I guess I did,” she admitted, “But it was totally ruined at the end, so that was unfortunate.”

“Will you see him again?” Shaun queried, “Because, if you do want to, I can explain to him — ”

“Don’t even go there, Shaun. It is not your job to make everybody understand you. Some people are born ignorant and they’ll die ignorant. Not your problem. And it’s their loss if they don’t bother to learn.”

“But I don’t understand. You had a fun time on your date. Why should a person not understanding autism stop you from going out with him again? People can be educated. I explain myself every day in my work. I am used to it. It will not bother me to do it again, if it is important to you.”

“You are too good for this cruel world, Shaun Murphy,” Lea said, reaching up and across to ruffle his hair.

At the same time, Shaun‘s hands went to his hair as well, warding Lea off.

“Sorry,” Lea apologised, withdrawing her hand immediately, “But, uh, your hair, it always looks so soft, I just — ”

“It’s okay,” Shaun interrupted her. “It’s like hugs. I used to hate them, and now, sometimes, I don’t. Maybe one day I’ll like having my hair touched, too.”

“I could have just asked you what shampoo you use, instead of charging in on the touch-sensitive like a rhino,” Lea countered, embarrassed.

Truthfully, she had absolutely no interest in what Shaun was using on his hair. She had just felt compelled to touch it.

“That would be a silly question. The bottle is on the counter in our bathroom. Why wouldn’t you just look at it?” Shaun said, confused.

“Why wouldn’t I just look at it,” Lea echoed dumbly. “Anyway, Shaun, I’m not going out with Jake again. He referred to his cousin’s son as ‘retarded’, so he has had ample time to be shown the error of his ways. He has evidently refused such opportunities. He’s a write-off.”

“Would you like to go home?” Shaun offered, reaching out a tentative hand to Lea to help her up.

Lea nodded. “Yes. I would very much like to go home. But I’m the sober one, as shocking as I’m sure that sounds to both of us, so you let me get that Uber for us, okay? Chances are that a-hole left negative feedback on your profile already.”

“Okay,” Shaun agreed.

Lea ordered another Uber in the app, and said, “It’ll be here in ten minutes. Look for a Honda Accord, silver.”

“What in the world compelled you to want to drink tonight, anyway?” Lea mused aloud, as they went outside to wait.

Shaun suddenly looked away, but Lea didn’t miss the... _guilty?_ expression on his face.

“What’s that look for?” Lea prodded him.

Shaun stayed silent.

Frustrated at his reticence, Lea turned over her thoughts in her mind, racking her brain for the reasons why Shaun would feel like drinking.

And then it hit her. What happened between them, last time that he was drunk. The only time it was almost something really good. The only time it was a beginning, not an ending. The only time it didn’t leave both of them so hurt when it was over.

Lea was simultaneously torn: between frustration that they seemed to keep missing - or misinterpreting - each other’s signals; and sadness that Shaun seemed to think he needed to be drunk to... to what?

“I think I know why you wanted to drink,” Lea said simply, not elaborating for Shaun’s sake.

His face went from guilty, to terrified, and through a myriad of expressions until it settled on something Lea could only describe as ‘caught’.

“I think I should tell you that you never had to,” she murmured.

The Uber rolled up, right on schedule, to save Shaun from having to reply. But Lea was not going to let it drop.

This little dance between the two of them had gone on for far too long. In the non-stop, go-go-go of the days, in the quieter evenings, or as ships passing in the night, set for separate courses, they could both pretend it was nothing. But for how long?

They got in the car, the driver sniffing the air suspiciously.

“He’s a surgeon in this hospital, my dude, he just smells like rubbing alcohol, like, all the time,” Lea said.

The driver still looked doubtful, but stopped sniffing the air and turned his attention to the steering wheel and windshield instead.

“We _are_ going to have this out at home, Shaun,” Lea stated quietly, yet firmly, as they buckled up in the back seat.

Shaun opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

“What if I can’t do that?” he finally whispered, looking agonised.

“You’ll do it, because it’s going to hurt more if we don’t. You know that,” Lea whispered back.

“What if I _won’t_ do that?” Shaun countered, a little louder, finding his voice.

“Everything. Nothing,” Lea reminded him, “I remember. So you’re gonna tell me more about the ‘everything’, and help me understand the ‘nothing’.”

“I - I don’t remember that — ” Shaun trailed off.

“Don’t you _dare_ lie to me, Mr. Eidetic Memory,” Lea hissed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the driver trying to eavesdrop, his shoulders angled towards Lea and Shaun. “Eyes _front_ , buddy,” she snapped.

“ _Doctor_. Dr. Eidetic Memory,” Shaun cut in, pedantically.

Lea gave him a Look.

“If _that_ is the hill you are choosing to die on, Shaun Murphy, you are about to enter a world of hurt,” she said warningly.

Shaun had the sense to look chastened.

They both stayed silent for almost the rest of the mercifully short drive.

“I already am,” Shaun finally got out.

’You already are, what?” Lea asked tiredly.

“In a world of hurt,” Shaun clarified timidly, just as the driver pulled to a stop in front of their building and killed the engine.

“That’s because you keep setting yourself on fire to keep me warm,” Lea returned. “And I know it’s hurting you, Shaun. As you observed, I’m not stupid.”

Shaun smartly kept silent at that remark, and stayed that way the whole walk up to their apartment.


	3. ... but they never make it past my mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end (until I feel the need to fill in more blanks).
> 
> I feel very strongly that you don’t come out of an experience like the quarantine not having reassessed a lot of things in your life. Near-death experiences show you what’s important.
> 
> I really believed that Shaun might have thought about what to say to Lea when he came out the other side, but with Glassman there I think he would clam up, and save it for another time.
> 
> Why is there darkness? Speaking out into the darkness is easier. You don’t have to look at anyone, so you feel anonymous.
> 
> I also think that Shaun is at or is nearing a point where he will call Lea out on everything she does where he’s concerned. As well he should.
> 
> And, after all, in this story it’s still Christmas - and at Christmas you tell the truth (a free cookie to anyone who caught that reference).

Lea unlocked the door and stepped inside, her eyes quickly landing on the four empty beer bottles on the coffee table, plus Jake’s abandoned one.

“Okay, Shaun. Park yourself and let’s talk,” Lea said firmly.

“I want another drink,” Shaun said stubbornly.

“Is that the only way you can really be honest with me? Shaun. Come on.”

“I’ll be honest either way, but — ”

“I’ll get you a shot of whiskey. Come on.”

“But I’ve never had whiskey — ” Shaun protested.

“I am _not_ serving you tequila, stat or otherwise, and if it’s not whiskey, it’s either tequila or beer, ‘cause that’s all I’ve got here. So I’d have to give you another four beers, and I neither have the beer left over, nor the patience to wait for that,” Lea pronounced, in a tone that brooked no further argument.

Shaun followed her sullenly to the kitchen, where Lea got out two slightly-taller-than-standard shot glasses - mementos from her twenty-first birthday - and poured them each a generous measure, almost to the brim. Handing one to Shaun, she said, “Down the hatch. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, sniffing at the Jack as though it was poison, Shaun tossed back the shot and put the empty glass back on the counter.

Lea took hers after him, slamming her glass back down next to Shaun’s. She saw him eyeing the empty glasses, knowing he was itching to wash up, if only to delay the discussion further.

“Uh-uh, Buster, you are _not_ getting near that sink tonight. You’ve had your shot, now let’s go back to the couch. Scoot.”

Shaun made his way to the couch, his expression utterly tortured.

Lea began to wonder if she was pushing him too far. Again. She was good at that, she reflected wryly.

“What if we did this in your room? In the dark? Would that help?” Lea suggested gently.

At first, Shaun shrugged, then nodded, and led the way to his room, turning on the lamp next to his bed so they could see where they were going.

“You comfortable, Shaun?” Lea said, when she was sitting at the foot end of his twin bed.

“I am not comfortable, Lea,” Shaun said bluntly, leaning against his pillows and handing two to her.

“Turn off the light now. Maybe it will help,” Lea suggested, trying to keep her voice soft. As if in a trance, Shaun obeyed. The room went dark.

“So — “ Lea started, then fell silent. She felt Shaun shift at the other end, reconsidered again whether this chat was strictly necessary, then stuck to her guns. It was gonna happen sometime, she reassured herself.

It felt like a long time before Shaun spoke, but once he did, he did not often stop, except when Lea interjected with exclamations of shock or empathy statements.

“I am happy to be living here with you. The last time I was happy living with someone was when my brother Steve set up the bus for us to live in. My parents’ house was not a home with room for me. I was the inconvenience they wished would just disappear. But Steve was... better. Better than they were. Wiser than they were.”

Lea breathed deeply, trying not to cry. Shaun had never gone into so much detail about his childhood with her before.

“Running away with Steve was freedom and it was fear. A lot of times we were hungry or cold or just two lost boys. After Steve died, Dr. Glassman’s library was where I learned to love medicine. But I couldn’t stay there. I went through a lot of foster homes instead.”

“Oh, my God. Shaun...” Lea murmured quietly.

“But now... my home... our apartment... this is my place, Lea. I _like_ coming home. Very much.”

“Why are you still holding back from me, Shaun?” Lea said, her tone almost desperate.

Shaun sighed.

“Because you asked me to. And - and I promised you that I could.”

“Was that a lie?” Lea broke in, her voice sharper than it needed to be. She felt the bed rock a little, and knew Shaun must be shaking his head.

“It wasn’t a lie, Lea. I feel everything. But you asked me to feel nothing. To want nothing. You learn about detachment in medical school. I am good at it. I had a head start. I learned how to do it so long ago. Most of the day I am too busy to think about you. Sometimes I am very grateful for that. It distracts me from my work, when I get caught up thinking about you. That is not good.”

“No, that’s not good,” Lea agreed, finding her equilibrium again somehow. “I - I don’t want that to happen to you.”

She had got so much more than she had bargained for out of an oversized measure of Jack.

“When I saw you... when you came back... Lea, you are so overwhelming to me. No emotion. Every emotion. That’s what ‘everything’ and ‘nothing’ meant.”

“I said I knew why you wanted to drink tonight. Do you want me to say it for you? Will that help you?” Lea asked.

“I don’t know,” Shaun said, almost apologetically. “I - I’m sorry.”

“You wanted to drink because you think that will make you - what? More attractive to me? Remind me of our road trip?” Lea prompted. “Shaun, do you really think that’s how to connect with me?”

“No,” Shaun whispered.

“Try to remember that I have now kissed you not once, not twice, but _three_ times, and you have done nothing about it. Ever. Okay, once it was because you drank too much. It happens. But what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Shaun? What am I supposed to understand from that?”

“Then why would you ask me if I thought we were a couple?” Shaun countered, his voice growing louder. “And why would you tell me that you ‘didn’t want that’? I think _you_ decided we weren’t.”

“I didn’t want that - because we really hurt each other. Even as we discussed moving in together, it didn’t magically stop hurting. And it definitely did not stop me worrying that I might do it again. Look at me. I’m doing it now!”

“Lea, when you asked me if I thought we were together - not once did you ask _me_ what I wanted. You just told me what _you_ wanted. Or didn’t want.”

“Do you wish you had?” Lea asked, her voice full of pain, “Maybe just went ahead and said it yourself?”

“Would it have changed anything?” Shaun replied, the question almost moot.

“I - I don’t know,” Lea admitted, feeling put on the spot.

 _But you asked him for this_ , her inner voice hissed. _You’re always asking him for things. You tell him_ what _to feel,_ when _to feel it,_ how _to be,_ what _to be, and you_ never _ask the real questions. Why? You’re a coward, Dilallo. And you say you love this guy? You think that counts as love? What the hell is wrong with you?_

“I’m a coward,” Lea said aloud. “Why don’t you ever call me out on it?”

“Because I think you are brave. Brave for leaving, brave for coming back, brave to live with me. I know living with me is ‘a _lot_ ’.”

“Glassy told you I said that, huh,” Lea commented, “I’m sorry, I was frustrated, I — ”

“Brave to live with someone who couldn’t be more different from you if he tried.”

“Oh my God, Shaun, I don’t deserve the forgiveness...”

“ **Stop!** I need you to be quiet!” Shaun exclaimed suddenly, having arrived at the end of his tether.

Lea felt a full-body flinch from him, and heard his hands slap the mattress in frustration.

Her voice fell silent, but she was breathing hard.

“ **Stop** **telling me what to** **do!** ” Shaun nearly bellowed, so loud in the small, dark room that Lea nearly toppled off the bed in shock.

He jumped up and switched on the lamp with such force that Lea heard it wobble and then right itself.

She’d seen and heard Shaun in meltdown before. This - this was something brand new. And frightening. Shaun’s anger was too big for the room.

Lea understood instantly that if she uttered even one word before Shaun said it was okay, he would run from her. Possibly forever.

“All you ever say is ‘I’ or ‘me’!” Shaun shouted, almost hysterical at this point.

Lea gathered this was _not_ the start of a discussion, and kept quiet.

“Will you please - just once - ask me what I want?” Shaun’s voice had become almost plaintive. “No-one ever does.”

“Am I allowed to speak now?” Lea asked, tentatively.

Shaun nodded.

“What if what you want isn’t something you can have?” Lea queried. “Sometimes two people each get a say, instead of only one person getting their say. Sometimes, that other person has to want what you want for that something to work. It generally can’t work if they don’t agree or don’t want to compromise. So what will you do?”

“Ask me what I want,” Shaun repeated, although he didn’t seem as infuriated as he had been.

“What are you gonna do if you get it? And what happens if it gets taken away later?” Lea prodded. Surely Shaun had to see that they _both_ had choices to make?

“Ask. Me. What. I. Want,” Shaun said again, this time stressing each word very deliberately.

Lea had to guess she’d taught him how to talk that way - she didn’t think that was a Glassy kind of tone - but she really hadn’t foreseen him using her own methods against her.

 _Why are you surprised? You made him this way and now you’re upset about it? Get over yourself!_  Lea’s inner voice piped up spitefully.

“Fine. You asked for this. What do you want, Shaun?” Lea finally questioned him.

Something in Shaun cracked just then, and Lea watched it break. _What he says next will change my life_ , she realised.

“I wish you would let me love you, because I want to,” Shaun whispered to the floor. He tried valiantly to look Lea in the face, but only got about as far as her chin. “But I’m not allowed to.”

Lea was glad she was still sitting, because she was fairly sure her legs would give out if she tried to stand. She wasn’t often speechless, either.

Oh, sure, she had braced for, ‘I want to be more than your friend’, ‘I want to hang out with you’, ‘Let’s go on a date sometime’, something a little lighter, a little more ‘see-how-we-go’. She’d prepared for tentative suggestions, somewhat shallow but full of winking promises and shy glances when one thought the other couldn’t see and just... _possibility_.

She had never anticipated this.

“Of - of course you’re allowed to, Shaun,” Lea finally got out, “You’ve always been allowed — ”

“No, I am **not** ,” Shaun countered vehemently. “I have never been allowed to love you the way I want to. I have always been allowed to love you just the way you want me to. From a distance. The way that lets you pretend that _feelings don’t change._ The way that you never have to think too hard about. The way that you can lie to yourself that of course he _doesn’t_ \- _couldn’t_ \- _wouldn’t_.”

“But does being allowed to love me like that come with obligations I have to fulfil? Things I would owe you? Things I would be in your debt for?” Lea asked, pain weighing heavy on every word because she was speaking from experience. She’d had a love like that once before. Fortunately, she’d known just in time the moment it became too expensive to keep it. She had also known so many other people, her friends, who kept thinking that kind of expensive love was all they were worthy of. That they’d never be enough and they might as well face it. People who became mere shadows if they were alone.

“I have never once thought that to love someone means that they owe you their love in return,” Shaun said, so earnest, so eager to believe the best of people even when they treated him like he was so inconsequential.

“In my experience, Shaun, a lot of people do. And, forgive me for the misandry, but the majority of those people are men. That debt they try to tell you that you owe gets bigger and bigger, until they have finally convinced you that you need to keep paying it off every day, and you gradually realise that it will never be repaid. The interest grows and grows until you are totally bankrupt - of love, of an identity, of friends, of anything you still had left to give. I absolutely refuse to live like that. I’d rather be alone forever.”

“I used to think that I wanted to be alone forever,” Shaun said, trying to relate.

“I’ve been through love like that, Shaun,” Lea said. “It’s why I’m hard to pin down. It’s why I’m bossy. It’s why I run when it gets serious. I need freedom at any cost. Nearly lost it once.”

Shaun came to sit beside her, and Lea noticed that he still kept his distance. Just like she’d told him to do.

“Shaun, how long have you felt this way about me?” Lea asked.

Shaun looked at her again, his gaze sharp and wise.

“Why are you asking, Lea? So you can wonder how or when you could have treated me differently, so that I would never have started in the first place?”

“Shaun, I — ”

“You came back to San Jose just to find me again. Do you ever ask yourself why? It was a long drive back here. Lots of places to pull over, get out, and start life over again. But, Lea, you kept driving. You _wanted_ to find me at the end of that drive. I am certain about that, at least.”

“Because — ” Lea started, then stopped.

“What was the first thing you wanted to do when you saw me in that hallway?” Shaun asked her, a half-smile on his face and a note of amusement in his voice. Challenging her. Daring her to admit it.

“I — ” Lea trailed off.

“Was it the same thing you did just before you left?” Shaun supplied, no levity in his words now.

“You’re asking me questions you already damn well know the answers to,” Lea choked out, starting to get sort of angry, “What are you trying to achieve? Do you just want to be right about everything? Because that is one of your most unattractive qualities, Shaun.”

“No,” Shaun said, and Lea knew it was the truth. The half-smile retreated, and his shoulders slumped. “I am absolutely terrified that I could be wrong.”

“Well, then, okay. I’ll cave. A little. Does knowing you’re right... help you somehow?” Lea mused aloud.

“Does knowing that I refuse to run again help _you_?” Shaun shot back. “Because I would not be surprised if you’re scared of what might happen if I stay this time. I think you are relieved when I run. It makes the decisions for you.”

“You - I - ” Lea stammered.

“I want to find out what happens when we both stop running,” Shaun told her.

“And I think I want you to love me the way you want to. I utterly refuse to die without at least knowing something about what that looks like. I have a good feeling that it looks wonderful,” Lea admitted, surprised at how easy it suddenly was to say so. “But what if - what if I never love you back the same way?”

“ _Do_ you love me? Start there.” Shaun replied.

“Yes,” Lea replied, “I love you.”

“Then why not try just loving me the way you want to?” Shaun suggested.

“What if I don’t know how?” Lea asked, scared.

“Lea, do you think we both have to be the same? Do things the same way?”

“To be fair, Shaun, you sure do like a lot of things done _your_ way,” Lea teased him gently.

At long last, a brilliant smile lit up his face as he started to laugh. It instantly became Lea’s new favourite sound.

“I know very little about love, but I think I understand that we both have to do it in our own way,” he said.

“Okay, _this_ , I’ve gotta see,” Lea commented, feeling herself grin just as wide.

“I had made up my mind to say something when I got out of the quarantine at Christmas, but you’d brought Dr. Glassman with you, so I couldn’t,” Shaun admitted, all in a rush. “And then we went go-karting and Dr. Glassman came, and then, um... yes, well, uh... then there was tonight.”

“Yeah, I like it more when it’s just you and me,” Lea agreed, “Okay, are we agreed that Glassy’s _not_ invited on our next date? He is a moment ruiner.”

“Kiss me, Lea.”

So she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve made it here, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed/agonised over writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from “The Sound of Settling” by Death Cab for Cutie.


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